


Lost and Found

by JohnLockDivision



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, He's just so sad and scared and unsure, John losing it after Sherlock 'dead', Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Reichenbach, Pre-Reichenbach, Schmoop, Sherlock Needs A Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 16:15:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2074689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnLockDivision/pseuds/JohnLockDivision
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock wakes John with a late night conversation, terrifying John and only making sense a few weeks later when he's jumped off a building.<br/>(I had this sort of conversation stuck in my head and so I wrote it down and wrote some stuff to go around it!!)</p><p>Excerpt;</p><p>'He had not seen Sherlock like this since The Woman.<br/>"What's the problem?"<br/>"I'm terrified."<br/>"Of what?"<br/>"Losing you." '</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was still dark when John felt Sherlock slipping into bed next to him.

It wasn’t unusual that Sherlock was only just getting to bed hours after John (he accepted that the Moriarty case was frustrating Sherlock, and there was a pressing need for mind palace maintenance.)

It wasn’t even unusual that he sat up against the headboard rather than to lie down next to John; John had long since realised that his own presence often brought Sherlock comfort, meaning that the detective would often seek out John when thinking through particularly perplexing puzzles.

What was unusual was the tension that Sherlock had seemingly brought with him into their room.

 

Rolling towards Sherlock, John blindly reached out one arm to grab Sherlock’s waist, pulling him low enough for John to nuzzle into his stomach.

“’Kay?”

John murmured, feeling Sherlock’s tense form beneath him.

Garnering only a hum in response, followed by lanky arms encasing him firmly against an equally lanky body, hands smoothing over his shoulder and hip, John squeezed Sherlock briefly in response.

“What is it?”

Feeling the hands still and arms tighten around him, John glanced up at Sherlock, and the look in the eyes staring back terrified him; fear and desperation causing Sherlock to seem entirely lost.

Sitting up, careful not to break the circle of Sherlock’s arms, John reached for Sherlock’s face, surreptitiously checking for any signs of illness, drugs or trauma.

 

“Sherlock?”

“I love you John. Very much.”

“I love you too,” John answered, slightly taken aback. He had not seen Sherlock like this since The Woman. “What’s the problem?”

“I’m terrified.”

“Of what?”

“Losing you.”

 

John wasn’t sure he had heard correctly – their whole conversation had consisted of hushed whispers in the darkness, but this last remark was quietest of all, and yet the terror was clear in Sherlock’s voice.

 

“You won’t lose me. I promise.”

“How can you tell?”

 

John moved one hand from where it rested, cradling Sherlock’s face, to hold one of his hands, entwining the fingers while he considered his answer.

 

“Well, we both know that you’re clearly too good for me, and I’m constantly worried that you’ll eventually get bored of me – “

“John, I wouldn’t. Please say you know…”

“Hush love, I know,” John was becoming worried by the frequency that Sherlock’s voice was cracking; clearly the emotional dam had burst. “I only meant that if anyone should be worried about someone leaving it’s me.”

“Why?”

“Well you leave me alone at crime scenes often enough. But I’m not worried Sherlock.”

“Why?” Barely a whisper this time.

“Because I’m the best thing that ever happened to you. And I know, deep down, that you’ll never leave me. Of course, you could ask me to go, but I would be prepared to fight you every step. But just leaving? That isn’t your style, you wouldn’t just give up like that.”

“John…” That broken voice again. John would love to never hear Sherlock so broken and full of doubt again.

“And you should know that you’ll never lose me for the same reason Sherlock. I could never survive without you, so I could never walk away from you, from this. If I’m ever lost, I know that all I have to do is come back here to find you, and all will be fine again. I’ve shared my heart with you, so the only way you could lose me, is if you left me. Which we’ve already established you won’t do.

Please love, tell me you know this? Tell me you realise that this is it now; you and me, until the end.”

 

Sherlock slowly brought his own hands to cradle John’s face, staring deeply into his eyes while tears rolled down his cheeks.

“John Watson, I will love you until the end of my days. I swear I will never leave you, not really. My only hope is that I won’t lose you.”

“Sherlock, I’ll be right here, I swear.”

 

Pulling his boyfriend down, allowing him to manoeuvre John into whatever position he needed, he drifted off once more, in the protection of Sherlock’s arms.

 

 

 

 

Weeks later John was lost; Sherlock had left. By jumping off a building. The bastard.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This second chapter isn't as good, but I just thought I should add Sherlock coming back, plus I had the last line in my head!

The early morning conversation drifted back to John constantly, another stab to his heart.

He couldn’t stay here; he had to leave.

 

 

 

 

 

He couldn’t even bare to visit.

He was entirely lost.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It wasn’t until a drunken conversation with Lestrade on the first anniversary that John realised what he had to do;

 

“It’s just---I’m so lost. Y’know? T-the, bloody bastard just left me. He promised. He promised Greg. But he-he...he _left_ me. He left me Greg.

I’m just so damn lost.”

On and on for what seemed like an eternity. 

 

Waking up on Greg’s sofa the next morning, Greg summed it up to John.

 

“Basically, you loved Sherlock, but he was a bastard and now you’re lost. So, what are you going to do?”

 

John swore it was time to change, starting with a visit to Mrs Hudson and Baker Street.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Being back was odd.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After the first time, it became easier.

 

More regular.

 

 

 

Which is probably why it took him a while to realise the door was open.

 

 

However, he did notice Sherlock stood by the window, looking at John with worry clearly etched on his face.

 

There were so many thoughts racing through John’s mind;

 

“ _WHAT? Why? How? Why now? Why didn’t he tell me? God I want to punch him. Or kiss him. Both? Both is good. Who else knows?”_

Opening his mouth, finally, John managed to force out “Why?”

 

Sherlock seemed to shrink, gazing at John imploringly.

“You said, if I ever left, if you were ever lost. To come here. So…I did.”

 

“But _why_?”

“I couldn’t lose you John. I could stand it if you were lost to me, but alive. But not dead. I couldn’t le you die.”

That seemed to do it. Making his way towards Sherlock, John first grasped his shoulder, confirming that he wasn’t going mad, before proceeding to punch Sherlock and then join him on the floor to kiss him senseless.

 

Then came weeks of work.

 

 

Of not talking.

 

 

 

Of talking.

 

 

 

 

Of apologies.

 

 

 

And finally….

 

 

 

 

Of forgiveness.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Drifting off to sleep one morning, encased in his boyfriend’s arms, John realised it had been 3 years since _The Conversation_.

He reminded Sherlock of the fact, gaining another round of apologies and affirmations of love.

Eventually, the two were once more staring into each other’s eyes, arms wrapped around each other and tears threatening to fall.

 

“This is it now Sherlock, ok? You and me, until the end.”

“Not the end. There are too many of those. Until Sussex.”

“What’s Sussex?”

“The Epilogue. I’ll keep bees and you’ll make honey.  Until The End.”

“Ok. You and me, until Sussex.”

“Until Sussex.”


End file.
